On the Singularity:

The rise of the internet marked the beginning of a new era in human history. For the first time, humanity was united across the world; unfettered by geography, race, or time. The internet is to the world as breaking light speed is to the universe.

However, the growth of technology can have consequences just as alien as the breaching of the solar system. Raymond Kurweil’s theory on the Singularity, which posits that technology grows exponentially rather than arithmetically, suggests that “there might conceivably come a moment when [computers] are capable of something comparable to human intelligence” (Lev Grossman, 2045: The Year Man Becomes Immortal). However, since technology would not stop there, the human race must follow either one of two paths: either Artifical Intelligence will enslave us with superior technology, or we will enslave ourselves.

The latter is supported by mankind’s voracious appetite for advancement. The internet increases in speed each year, and grows into near infinite. Video games advance their graphics and gameplay to near simulation of real life. Every new invention makes life easier, and supposedly “more humane.” Even death is just a disease to Singularitans—something to be cured with science, regardless of human consequences. A God-Complex justified by mathematical efficiency and precise calculations. As Grossman notes, “Old age is an illness like any other, and what do you do with illnesses? You cure them.”

Aldous Huxley predicted this tendency to eradicate human discomfort in his novel Brave New World. The humans are engineered in bottles, mass-produced like just another machine to serve “Society.” Each factory strives to outdo its input, and to outstrip its competitors. Mr. Foster, a factory worker, notes that Mombasa created over 1700 twins from a single embryo. “Still,” he says, “we mean to beat them if we can.” Man’s desire to compete and yet to bring comfort to society provides more than enough proof for Kurzweil’s theory. After all, if humanity can create an infinite world on the internet, less than a century after inventing the computer, then it can remold the real world less than a century after that.

Literary criticism link

http://www.studentpulse.com/articles/530/vehicles-for-story-chinua-achebe-and-ng#361;g#297;-wa-thiongo-on-defining-african-literature-preserving-culture-and-self

 

In her piece Vehicles for Story, Kristina S. Ten uses a journalistic approach to inform both readers and writers of African literature about the opposing viewpoints of Chinua Achebe and Ngugi wa Thiong’o. Ten points out that the English language, while accepted as an international medium, still has limits. According to EnglishClub.com, over one and a half billion people speak English—nearly a quarter of the world’s population. Yet according to Isadc.org, there are more than 6800 languages in the world—6799 languages with nuances, grammar, accents, proverbs, and subtle meanings that can never be properly translated into English.

The 1962 conference at Makerere University in Uganda discussed African literature—“who should write it, what it should depict, and – of central importance in the debate – how it should be communicated” (Ten). Out of this conference appeared the two leaders of the movement to “re-Africanize” African literature, Ngugi and Chinua. As Ten points out, both follow the same principle—“the preservation of African ideals among sustained multilingual diversity.” However, Ngugi follows the more controversial stance, refusing to write any stories in English, while Chinua holds that English is essential to the expansion of African culture. In order to catalogue both sides, Ten abandons the traditional thesis format in favor of an investigative journalism format.

Therefore Ten’s piece resembles a Pullitzer Prize feature rather than an essay—except that her reporting is fifty years late. By never inserting her opinion, Ten retains Ethos for both Ngugi and Chinua supporters. Yet her overall message remains clear: she feels that African literature has been pushed to the side as a nonentity, and deserves attention. Her journalistic style fits this motive perfectly, and therefore extends her audience to not only fans of African literature, but to individuals who never knew that fans of African literature existed.

Ten also uses simplistic vocabulary to complement her approach, as per the seventh grade standard of modern newspapers. In this way, Ten avoids losing any potential audience, and maintains her incognito presence. She forgoes fancy metaphors and flashy turns-of-the-phrase, relying on cold facts to get her message across. By dissecting and placing Ngugi’s and Chinua’s points in an easy to read fashion, Ten succeeds in her goal of educating her audience.

Ten almost completely abandons the formally stated thesis, burying it between the lines as an indirect lead. The traditional thesis resembles the hypothesis of the scientific method, rather than the encapsulation of an idea. Certainly, it remains a valuable tool, but in the end it is nothing more than a roadmap; a table of contents reduced to a single sentence. Ten uses the body of her essay as her idea—removing linear limits while retaining structure. Instead of using topic sentences in each paragraph, Ten uses the preceding paragraph to lead into the next, increasing the flow of the document. There is no ratio for her evidence—many paragraphs contain no supporting quotes at all. Instead, Ten relies only on ease of reading to dictate her writing. The formula of concrete details to commentaries does not exist in this essay. Ten therefore breaks away from traditional rules, following her own journalistic format to maintain Ethos and audience.